


Remembering 'Us'

by TooWeirdToLive



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:49:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1705451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooWeirdToLive/pseuds/TooWeirdToLive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky starts to remember things from his past and seeks out Steve for clarification on a few more intimate memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembering 'Us'

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written in a long while, so apologies if it comes across as a little rusty but after watching Captain America: The Winter Soldier I just had to get this out of my system.

Barnes stood in the corner of Rogers’ apartment, hidden in the umbra despite the fact that the apartment was empty. Captain America was out somewhere fighting crime for S.H.E.I.L.D, or doing whatever he did in his time off.

Ever since he’d pulled the Patriot from the river after the helicarrier, Barnes had been at war with himself. The Winter Soldier part of him was struggling for dominance, demanding that he follow through with his final mission and kill Captain America. The other part of him – the part that Rogers had called Bucky – was getting stronger every day.

He was remembering things from different points in his life, just flashes at first, but the images were growing stronger and becoming clearer, as if he were actually remembering them rather than looking at them through a hazy mirror. He remembered Rogers back when he’d been small; before the serum had made him a giant. They’d apparently been the best of friends and, if he was remembering properly, perhaps something more.

The sound of a key in the lock at the front door snapped him out of it and he spirited out of the window he’d entered through.

On the roof of Rogers’ apartment building, Barnes sat with his head in his hands. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, both hands delved deep into his hair as if it would help to stabilise his mind. The Asset had already plotted out a route that would take him back down to Roger’s bedroom, knew where the exits were, he could get in and out in less than five minutes. Bucky wanted to go back and talk to the man that claimed to be his friend. He wanted to ask for help, but he knew that he couldn’t go back while the Soldier was so dominant within him.

~  
A month later Bucky found himself in the same corner of Rogers’ room. He couldn’t remember actively deciding to go, but here he was all the same. He stood in the same place he’d been last time, only this time the bed was occupied. Bucky crept towards the sleeping figure, fighting to ignore the impulse that was driving his left hand towards his sheathed knife.

He took another step forwards, freezing when the floorboard creaked beneath his feet. The Soldier urged him to make his move now, to finish Captain America while he was vulnerable. Before he knew it, metal fingers had released the knife from the sheath and were holding it ready; if he moved now it would be over in seconds. Barnes held his breath, fighting that instinct and waiting to see whether Rogers would stir. He didn’t. He’d always been a heavy sleeper, especially after they’d fu- Barnes shook his head and tried to focus.

If he went too long without being ‘debriefed’ he’d start to get flashes of memories. Names, faces, and people he’d killed. The guilt tore at him, he’d never gone this long without being put in that chair… and he had to find out whether these memories were real, or artifice cooked up by the soviets. Since Rogers featured heavily in these memories, he’d decided to come to him for help.

Part of him wanted to believe that he’d come to him in the middle of the night for privacy, but he knew it had been a tactical manoeuvre to catch Captain America while he was easiest to put down. The reminder of his final mission made him groan audibly as he fought his conditioning (as broken as it was starting to become). Rogers shifted in the bed before him and murmured sleepily

“Bucky…”

Barnes reached out with his real hand, suddenly longing to climb in behind Rogers and curl around him like they used to, but he couldn’t bring himself to get any closer. A yard separated them, but it might as well have been miles. On the other side of the bed, there was a small armchair which Barnes made his way round to and sank into softly. He wasn’t willing to leave without speaking to Rogers, but he also couldn’t bring himself to disturb him. With the exhausting mental weight of fighting his inner demon, Barnes lasted only an hour before his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

When he woke, it was to find Rogers sitting on the edge of his bed in the pre-dawn gloom, staring at him with raised eyebrows. The Asset reached for his knife, but found nothing.

Rogers held it up. “Looking for this?”

Barnes was torn between being furious that he’d let his guard down, and being slightly happy that he’d been liberated of one of his weapons. It would nice if he could talk to this man rather than carrying out that lingering mission. He pushed the thought away, afraid that thinking it would unleash the beast. He was getting weaker now though, and only snarled in the cage Barnes had carefully erected around him in his mind.

Rogers must have seen the mixed emotions cross his face, because his own features creased into a concerned look.  
“Bucky?” Rogers breathed his name and flinched slightly, probably remembering what had happened last time he’d spoken that name. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you; I’ve been remembering things.” He admitted.

“That’s great!” Rogers’ face lit up with a smile. “You didn’t have to sneak into my apartment in the middle of the night though.”

“I figured turning up at your door would land me a one way ticket to SHIELD HQ.” Barnes shrugged.

“SHIELD isn’t all bad. They have people there you can talk to. They helped me after I was pulled out of the ice myself.”

Barnes shook his head. “I just want to talk to you.”

“Alright then.” Rogers looked down at the knife in his hand before putting it behind him on the bed, well out of sight. Barnes was glad, it was one less thing to distract him, he swallowed heavily and rubbed his real hand across his hand to hide a grimace.

“You okay there pal?”

He nodded, counting to ten and taking a deep breath. “You used to be so small.” It was a question and a statement at the same time; he remembered Rogers being so small he was afraid he’d break him, but he needed the validation of knowing.

“That’s right.”

“How did you end up like this?” Barnes gestured towards Rogers.

“I joined the army.” He laughed.

There was a spark of recognition behind those words as if they’d had this conversation before – they had! Barnes remembered it now, Rogers had rescued him and the other captured 107th troops from Hydra. This was good; it meant that his memories were real!

“And we were friends?” Barnes asked tentatively.

“Thick as thieves.” Rogers nodded, “Since we were knee high.”

The memories were flooding through loud and clear now that he was talking through it with Rogers, so he knew that he’d been right in his decision to seek help. The two of them playing together in the streets. Running to school together, dragging sticks along railings. Barnes recounting his first kiss with a girl and encouraging Rogers to go after one of the girls in class. The two of them going on double dates and Rogers striking out every single time. Finding out about America joining the war; promising to enlist together. Training at Goldie’s Boxing Gym in a vain attempt for Rogers to gain some muscle mass. Barnes enlisting where Rogers failed. Rogers trying again and again. The Stark Expo after Barnes had gotten his orders…

But there was something else in there as well. He remembered consoling Rogers after one of his dates had been outright rude. He remembered promising Rogers that they didn’t need no dames, that they always had each other. He remembered their first kiss, which had led to other firsts… but these ones were the ones that were harder to pinpoint as being real. It clashed with other memories of the many women he’d fucked.

“Were we…more than just friends? Were we lovers?” Barnes asked, though from the twinge in his gut and the spread of warmth he felt at just speaking the word he knew, somehow, that it was true.

A blush appeared on Rogers’ cheeks and his eyes widened as he took in the question he’d just been asked. As he opened his mouth to answer, his phone rang and Barnes flinched, instantly assuming that SHIELD must have discovered him. As the blond turned to check the ringing phone, Barnes made a quick exit. It was getting lighter by the minute, and he couldn’t afford to be wandering around in full on daylight with his arm on show.

~

The duration between visits was shorter this time, and Barnes found himself drawn back to Rogers’ apartment once again. This time when he arrived, however, the window was already open and there was a light on within the apartment; either Rogers was expecting him, or this was a trap. He suspected the former, though the Soldier had walked into a number of so-called traps in his day and had walked away largely unscathed.

It took everything he had not to enter the room with his knife drawn and ready, but somehow he managed it. Apart from Rogers, sat on the bed against the wall with his knees up and a sketchpad across them, the room was empty. It hadn’t been a trap after all. For a moment Rogers said nothing, and the only sound was the light scratching of graphite on paper. From this angle, Barnes couldn’t see what he was drawing.

“You going to stand there all night?” Rogers asked without looking up.

“You still draw.” Barnes said as he made his way round to the same armchair he’d occupied before. It was a statement rather than a  question, though Rogers nodded in response.

“It helps me relax.”

“What are you drawing?”

“You.” Barnes wasn’t expecting that, but he leant forwards to look when Rogers flipped the sketchbook around to show him the drawing. It was indeed Barnes, asleep in this very armchair during his last visit. He looked almost innocent… almost.

“You’re as good as I remember.” He smiled, as a memory of sketch-covered walls came back to him. he also remembered having posed for Rogers more than once in the past, and not always fully clothed. Silence fell once more and the tension in the room was almost tangible.

“You didn’t answer my last question.” Barnes mumbled after a while, remembering what usually happened after Rogers had sketched him. Specifically one time where Rogers had drawn him nude and it had quickly progressed into something else entirely; the sketch never was finished. He felt a twitch in his groin at the memory and flinched – it was a sensation he hadn’t felt in seventy-odd years. The Asset had had no need for sexual contact. There had been no use for arousal. He was a weapon, not to be used for, or to receive, pleasure.

“You left before I could.” Rogers replied, finally making eye contact. Barnes offered no apology or explanation for his previous disappearance and the two men looked at each other until Rogers spoke again. “Why don’t you come over here and I’ll give you your answer.”

It was all the invitation Barnes needed, moving from the chair and reaching the bed in a single bound. Their mouths collided, tongues following shortly afterwards. Barnes felt something snap into place in his mind. For the first time in years he felt as though he belonged, and it was here, with Rogers.

Barnes leant into Rogers, pushing him back against the wall and letting his hands roam over the muscular anatomy, remembering each rise and dip of his body. Rogers’ hands slipped beneath Barnes’ many layers of clothing, digging until large, warm hands met cool skin. Suddenly there were too many layers between the two of them and they broke apart to relieve themselves of the problem.

“Bucky let me.” Rogers moved towards him as he fumbled with his trouser buttons, the metal of his fingers were not made for undressing in haste, they were made for more destructive purposes.  He’d been about to simply rip the button from his trousers when Rogers had taken over. He looked down as the man gently kissed his stomach, undid his trousers and gently peeled them away; kissing each new inch of skin that was exposed.

With the trousers forgotten around his ankles, Rogers turned his attention to Barnes’ boxers, warm fingers slipping inside and pulling them south in one fluid movement. He started to step out of his clothes, but suddenly became distracted when a wet heat encompassed his hardening penis. He gasped and looked down to see his entire length being taken in. It reminded him of when they had done this before, back when Rogers had been skinny and it had taken a lot more effort and perseverance to take all of him like this.

“Steve…” He groaned as he was lavished by his tongue. “My Steve.” The reply came as a mumble that vibrated around him, adding to the pleasure. He remembered now. This was his Steve, and he was Bucky,  and it settled the discordance in his mind. He and Steve had always belonged to one another. All those dames he remembered had been a show, an unwilling, but sadly necessary, act of infidelity. Fingers, both metal and flesh, wormed their way into Steve’s hair and he felt a tremble in his knees. It had been so long since he’d done anything like this that he knew he wasn’t going to last long. He thrust his hips forward slightly and spilt into that eager mouth. Steve swallowed it all down before releasing him.

“You okay there pal?” Steve asked, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, unflinching even though his hand sat at the join where flesh gave way to metal. 

“Better than ok.” He stepped out of his clothing at last and pointed at Steve’s khaki trousers that were visibly straining. “I think you’d better take those off.” Steve complied, and in less than a minute he’d pushed Bucky back onto the bed and was kissing him again, his erection nudging his stomach in earnest.

This kiss was slower than the first and more intense. It sent tendrils of warms the length and breadth of Bucky’s body, and he gave himself in to it, snaking his flesh hand down between them and clasping Steve’s cock in his fist. The first pump, tight with a twist at the end, made Steve groan into his mouth. It was a sound that he wanted to hear again and again. To re-engrain it into his memory and never forget it ever again.

Steve came not long after, spilling his seed all over Bucky’s hand and stomach and the two of them fell into a familiar embrace. Bucky on his back on the bed, one arm draped over Steve, who rested his head on his chest and sighed.

“I missed you so much, Bucky.”

“I missed you too… even if I didn’t remember it at the time.”

They lay there in silence, just appreciating each other’s company until Bucky eventually drifted off. Steve, not wanting to disturb him, closed his eyes and soon drifted off as well, looking forward to the morning when they’d be able to rediscover each other all over again and again and again. 


End file.
